The Sacrifice of the 1st Minnesota
by SierraFrost
Summary: July 2nd, 1863. Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. The 1st Minnesota regiment is ordered into a suicide charge resulting in 82% casualties, but essentially winning the day for the Union army. State OCs


**Happy belated Canada Day! Okay, so I'm a week behind, but I was in Colorado with no computer access for a while, so I didn't have the chance to give my best wishes to our neighbors to the north. ;D **

**Baaack to the story. I completely skipped over the actual battle scenes, but my knowledge of this event is superficial at best, and I know nothing about the battles themselves beyond the regiment charged, the regiment was destroyed, the regiment rose to fight again the next day and was destroyed again (in case you're wondering, two companies didn't participate in the first battle; they brought the total men up to 150 for the second). Someday I'll get around to adding to this. Not to mention editing it.**

**The first bit is about the battle on Cemetery Hill; the second is Pickett's Charge. **

**Sko****l Minnesota! **

**Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya  
Massachusetts' one line was stolen from the movie _Glory _(well, more _inspired_ by it) ****  
My Minnesota, Illinois, Wisconsin, and Massachusetts characters belong to me**

* * *

**Sacrifice**

"Which regiment is this?" Hancock barked at the blonde in the front line.

"1st Minnesota."

"Charge those lines!" And he was gone.

Minnesota turned to his men, meeting their resigned but determined gazes. He raised his musket in a silent salute, the sun gleaming on his bayonet blade, and led his regiment into the storm.

**Aftermath **

A bit of movement on the ground caught Illinois's eye. He approached the fallen soldier, almost unable to believe that the battered body could still hold life. It was covered in blood and grime, the once-blue uniform hanging off in tatters; it looked as though there was more blood on the outside than there could possibly be inside. But still, there was something familiar about the figure, something about the bits of white-blonde hair he could see here and there, shining through the dirt…Illinois knelt down beside the soldier and wiped a bit of the filth off of his face. "Minnesota?"

The figure shifted a little before opening its eyes. A slow smile spread across Minnesota's face when he saw Illinois, although it was quickly dissolved by a grimace of pain. "We won, didn't we?" he rasped.

"We did indeed." Illinois turned and flagged down a passing soldier. "Help me get him to the hospital," he instructed, then addressed Minnesota again. "Come on, let's get you off the field. You did wonderfully; now you need rest."

There was no reply. Minnesota's eyes had drifted closed once more, all of the tension draining out of his body. Illinois stared at his blood-encrusted face in silence, the soldier shifting impatiently beside him.

"You did wonderfully," the state repeated in a whisper, leaning down and pressing his lips against Minnesota's forehead.

**Survival**

Minnesota briefly opened his eyes, hardly allowing himself to get his bearings before he squeezed them shut again against the lamplight. He slowly eased them open again to find what he recognized as the ceiling of the hospital, as well as Wisconsin seated next to his bed.

"How are you feeling?" Wisconsin asked, unconsciously leaning forward.

"Aching," the younger state admitted. "What about you? Are you all right?"

"I'll heal." One of Wisconsin's arms was in a sling, and his other sleeve had been torn off, revealing yet more bandaging.

Minnesota tried to shift his head a little to get a better view of his surroundings and maybe catch a glimpse of his men, but his muscles protested violently and he gave up. "How long ago was I brought in?" he asked, still trying to get a good grasp of the time that had elapsed and what was going on.

"Just a few hours ago. I'm surprised that you woke up this quickly." Wisconsin hesitated. "I was talking with Illinois earlier…he said that the battle would have been lost if not for you."

Minnesota shrugged, a small spasm of pain crossing his face as he did so. "I wouldn't know about that, I was just following orders." He paused. "Wisconsin…how many of my men are left?"

"You need rest," Wisconsin replied, brushing past Minnesota's question. "I don't want-"

"Wisconsin." Minnesota looked him directly in the eye, his gaze level and determined.

Unable to meet his brother's calm stare, Wisconsin dropped his gaze to the floor. "About…about forty-seven returned, I believe."

**Once More**

"I think I have just enough strength left for one more try at these rebels," Minnesota said with a cocky grin. "What say you?"

Massachusetts clasped his shoulder, a grin spreading across her own face. "I say…let's give 'em hell."

**Fall**

The air was draped in silence, an eerie, unearthly silence, punctuated here and there by the moans of the wounded.

Minnesota lay on his back, staring up into the vast blue expanse of the sky. He could feel a dull pain in his left leg, just beneath his knee, but it didn't worry him…he was finding it impossible to be worried, impossible to think…

_Fallen…but fallen in triumph, once again. _


End file.
